Crush Me
by AlFlowerrise
Summary: Paint my gray dreams — NearMello  Oneshot. Angst.


N/A: Okay, I love this pairing too much and this is an attempt writing it. I hope it went out okay. Mello and Near are awesome and I hope it automatically makes the story acceptable ;) I don't own Death Note. Near isn't emotionless in this, just sayin', I don't want him to be emotionless with Mello.

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**Crush Me**

Paint my gray dreams — NearMello

Oneshot

-~#~-

There was something admirable in watching the black soul turn white. Mello's anger, that had always been there, hunting the deer to its end and never leaving, it was a part of him. Mello was Mello, black, fiery; the one pulling the trigger and letting the blood flow and Near couldn't wish to have him another way. Mello's personality was a mix, glued together with his moments of charity and it made him alive, painted with colors that melted into him and made him a living fire with flames reaching for the heaven.

Mello wanted to win. Near didn't. Mello had a line, a goal, a possession and a cause—_beating Near_. Near had none. Near's life was like an empty bowl, turn it upside down and nothing happened. His dreams were gray and his purpose was drained out. He wasn't suicidal and he didn't regret anything but he could never deserve the win like Mello did.

Near's only victory was when hot, raw lips touched cold ones, bending up his mouth and licked in his taste, made his core explode and dreams fly away. Mello's reasons were too complicated for his logical brain and he found out he didn't really care either, he only wanted to have his share of the treat, only wanted teeth to crash against teeth and possessive hands on his soft skin.

He never thought he could feel this way and he only could with Mello. Mello didn't bother tip-toeing around him and tried to understand him, because in all honestly no one could—he broke the door open, forced Near to the wall and kissed him senseless before he walked out again. The rivalry increased the baffle and therefore the thirst. Near thirsted and it made him vulnerable but it wasn't important anymore. They were two jigsaws on the field of Fighting Kira and regain the World's Justice and they couldn't fit but Mello forced them together anyway. He ignored Near's flaws and used them to his advantage and Mello made him feel alive, made him smile, made him fly. He never said it, Mello didn't want to hear it but he still understood because Near's emotions that slipped through his mask were too easy to read.

Near saw colors, he felt, he wanted to scream. They danced around the devil and avoided the fact that every dance had an end. Mello returned and cupped his hands around Near's face, gently, rubbing his cheekbones before bringing the fire alive again. No one touched him like this, no one saw him like this, no one treated him like this. Mello painted his gray dreams with color and he tangled his small hands in Mello's golden hair and showed him everything he didn't know before he had. Mello brought him to the bed, gave him love, gave him reasons and then kindly put the cloth around him—gentleness from Mello made him melt like butter—before he left and the darkness made him disappear. Mello have him more and more and soon Near would burst like a balloon and think he tripped in the hole to the place where he could be with Mello forever.

Near wasn't ignorant, he knew what life was. It was short and it was a balancing on the thin thread—one day you fell over. Near knew how to look at life—Mello didn't. It frightened more than it should, losing Mello, it was the distilled darkness. A life without Mello was like surviving in the desert without water, it created terror inside his robotic heart.

"Why do you do this?"

"Because I can," he hissed and moved his right hand from Near's shoulder to his collarbone. Mello's scar represented life in all its fragility and obscurity and it made Near yelp, a sound he never thought would escape from his lips.

"You are damaged, you take risks without thinking, you…" Mello placed a hand over his mouth and pressed his lips to a thin line.

"Don't fucking analyze me. Don't look down at me, Near, you always do that. I hate you for your smugness." He softened his feature and pulled Near closer, snuggling in white locks and Near while he smelt leather and felt kisses on his neck knew that he couldn't rewrite the ending of the book.

A week later Mello died.

He died and sent Near back to the robotic state with glasses that revealed only one color—gray. He forgot to feel, forgot to smile, forgot to dream. Mello was his treasure and he overused the treasure and one day it was gone. Gone and lost with the wind and he only had the Kira-case left.

Near didn't cry. He chose to hide behind facts and evidence and Kira and his mistakes instead of open his heart and feel. He couldn't let himself fall and die with Mello, he had to continue where L had started and Mello had continued.

But the victory had nothing to give him.

He closed his eyes and felt the warmth when lips bruised his own and the absorbing feel of dominance Mello had and treated Near like porcelain, bringing him to the end but still let him live. Mello crushed him, in every possible way and he crushed him even more when he wasn't here.

He wasn't here.

Yes, there was something admirable watching a black soul turn white. But it wasn't admirable watching it die.

-~#~-

fin


End file.
